


Let Me Make a Mess of You

by KiaraMGrey



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anal Sex, Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Come Eating, Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley's Good at Tempting, Domestic Bliss, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Rimming, Soft Husbands, South Downs Cottage (Good Omens), cake baking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:08:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28163706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiaraMGrey/pseuds/KiaraMGrey
Summary: Aziraphale is blissfully happy sharing his home in the South Downs with his beloved demon. All he really wants to do is bake a cake to show his gratitude, but Crowley has other plans.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 207
Collections: Grow Better / Scribbling Vaguely Downwards - Holiday Swap '20, Top Crowley Library





	Let Me Make a Mess of You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HarmoniHalo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarmoniHalo/gifts).



> Me, writing the boys in canon? It's more likely than you would think! But really, I don't normally write them as their angel/demon selves, so I hope this works! This is for the Grow Better/ Scribbling Vaguely Downwards Holiday Swap, and my prompt was "Azi making a cake and Crowley coming in to interrupt." Enjoy!

It was a lovely day in the South Downs, but then again, every day had been lovely since Aziraphale had moved in with his beloved demon. Their life had taken a decidedly domestic turn ever since the world hadn’t ended, and Aziraphale could find absolutely no room to complain. He had worried that Crowley would be standoffish at first, after so many millennia being denied even the barest amount of affection. He had been fully prepared to take it slow, glacially slow if need be, in order to get Crowley to understand the levels at which he loved and adored him. In truth, he would have waited a millennium for him to come around.

But he should have known better, after so much time. His poor beloved had been so touch starved, that the moment he reached his hand out for him, he had practically melted against him. He had whimpered and told Aziraphale that whatever he wanted he would give him. And oh, how that had broken his heart. So he had told him he wanted everything. He spilled the secrets of his heart to a disbelieving demon and well, the rest was history. Or at least it would be.

Now, a year later and living in their beautiful little cottage, Aziraphale had never been happier. What more could he want, really? He had all of his books in his personally library, which was far bigger than should be possible, given the outside appearance of the house. A gift from Crowley, of course.

_“Eh, just worked a bit of spacey stuff.”_ He had said, wiggling his fingers.

There was a massive garden that stretched back to the hills, filled with the most luscious, beautiful, and terrified plants that had likely ever existed. He would often sit beside the window and listen to Crowley, crouched down beneath the windowsill, as he hissed threats to the daffodils.

_“You’re for Aziraphale, you hear me? If you aren’t the brightest, straightest flowers in England I swear I’ll have you turned into compost! He only deserves the best!”_

And of course, the best part of living here was Crowley himself. He almost couldn’t believe how perfect everything was, how it had all just fallen into place. They were free from their respective head offices and could just live and be free and in love, something he had believed firmly outside their grasp before now. Oh, how happy he was that he had been wrong.

And so today he had decided that to celebrate his good mood and show Crowley just how thankful he was to have him in his life, he was going to bake him a cake. Crowley rarely ate, but when he did, he always preferred something sweet. So he stood now in the kitchen, watching the timer for the oven until the angel cake was finished. And yes, he had chosen this recipe for a very particular reason.

When the timer went off, he bent to retrieve it, and as he did, he heard the sound of the back door opening and shutting, followed by the sound of approaching boots. He smiled to himself as he set the hot cake on the counter.

“Hello dear, are you done with the garden already?”

Crowley hummed behind him, his hands coming to settle on Aziraphale’s hips. He suppressed a shiver and bit his lip. He was still getting used to the fact that they could _touch_ each other now.

“Just finished seeding that back plot, thought I’d take a break.”

He pressed a kiss to the juncture between his neck and shoulder, using his nose to move his collar out of the way. It took a great amount of effort not to whine at the contact, to not push into it and ask for more. Because he knew Crowley would give it. More, more, more, as much as he could give.

“Good idea, my dear. I was just getting ready to frost this cake, perhaps you could help me?”

Crowley grumbled and began to kiss his way up Aziraphale’s neck to his ear, stopping to nibble gently.

“Don’t care about the cake. I want to taste _you_.”

“Ah, darling, you just did last night.”

Crowley’s hands tightened on his hips, pulling him back and flush against him, showing just how little that mattered.

“It doesn’t matter how much I have you, I always want more. When I told you I would never have enough, I meant it.”

Aziraphale reached down to grip the counter top and closed his eyes as he felt Crowley begin to grind against him, his length straining against his overly tight trousers. He couldn’t help but cry out when Crowley reached around and groped at his growing erection.

“C-Crowley, I’m trying to bake!”

“Mmm,” he hummed. “Don’t stop on my account.”

“Yes, well, you’re making it, _ah,_ very difficult to concentrate.”

Crowley chuckled. “Am I? Sorry about that. Demon, remember?”

“Yes, how could I forget you w-wily thing.”

“Oooo, wily, am I? How about this?” he asked, his tongue licking up the expanse of his neck and into the shell of his ear. “Let’s play a game. I want you to ice your cake, and I’m going to try and make you come. If you finish icing it before I make you come, I’ll do whatever you want this holiday season. I’ll even,” he shuddered, “go caroling with you.”

Aziraphale perked up. “Really?”

“Mhm. _But,_ if I make you come first, you have to come with me to one of those dancing clubs in the city.”

Aziraphale groaned. “Oh, but I hate those! The music is so loud, and people are always too close to each other.”

“Yeah, well, I hate caroling. Do we have deal?”

Aziraphale bit his lip. “Oh, yes, alright.”

He felt Crowley smile against his ear. “Perfect.”

He snapped his fingers, and Aziraphale suddenly found himself completely bare from the waist down.

“Crowley!”

He chuckled. “I do have to give myself _some_ sort of advantage, don’t I?” He ran his hands down Aziraphale’s hips and squeezed his arse, making his breath hitch. “You better get icing angel.”

Oh, right. Aziraphale picked up the icing bag and began to carefully apply it to the top of the now cool cake. As he did, he felt Crowley go to his knees behind him, which was never a good sign. When he felt a forked, abnormally long tongue slide between his cheeks and into his entrance, he cried out and dropped the icing bag.

“Oh god, Crowley.”

“Don’t bring her into this,” Crowley murmured, pulling at his hips until he was slightly bent over, and his legs were spread.

Oh dear, this was going to be more difficult than he had expected. Crowley knew what his tongue did to him. He tried to concentrate on picking up the icing bag, but then Crowley’s tongue was pushing into him with more insistence. He bit back a moan and forced his hand to stay steady as he spread some more icing on. Crowley’s tongue was unforgiving, sliding in and out of him at a maddening pace, curling inside him at just the right angle to make him lose his mind. Crowley had always had a silver tongue, but _this_ was something different. All the while his long fingers continued to massage and rub his arse and thighs, showing them the devotion that had been suppressed for 6000 years. Aziraphale couldn’t help but cry out and drop his head as he clenched around Crowley. He wanted _more,_ but he couldn’t say that.

He used a spatula to smooth out the icing on top of the cake, but due to his hand shaking, was having a hard time with it. Crowley reached his hand between his thighs began to play with his balls, which in turn made Aziraphale let out an embarrassingly high pitching sound. Crowley chuckled.

“Oh, angel, you taste so good. Better than any cake ever could. I just want to live here between your thighs, tasting and sucking you all day until you come apart for me completely.”

Aziraphale moaned and rocked backwards as Crowley replaced his tongue with his fingers. Damnit, he knew what dirty talk did to him. He was most assuredly not playing fair.

Aziraphale tried to evenly spread icing along the sides of the cake, but as Crowley picked up the pace of his fingers inside him and brought the other around to stroke his achingly hard cock, all other thoughts left him. He dropped the spatula and gripped the counter harder. 

“Oh, oh fuck Crowley that feels so good.”

“Mmm, I know. I love making you feel good angel.”

He stood up then, changing the angel of the two fingers inside him and drawing forth another moan. Both hands continued to work him while he skimmed his teeth over his pulse point, then bit down hard enough to leave a mark.

“Shit! Crowley, oh, oh my.”

“That’s it, angel,” he whispered sinfully into his ear. “Let me hear that filthy mouth of yours.”

“I- I _don’t_ have a filthy mouth.”

“Oh yes you do. I’ve heard it enough times to know what a naughty angel you are. You’re a hedonistic thing, and I fucking love it. So tell me. Tell me what you want.”

“ _Crowley!_ ”

“Ah ah, you have to tell me.”

He twisted his wrist on the upstroke, and Aziraphale’s mind blanked out. He forgot the game they were playing and the stakes completely, his mind chasing the pleasure that was just beyond his reach.

“Crowley, I want you to fuck me! Please, please fuck me.”

“Oh, _angel,_ you know I can never refuse you when you beg so prettily.”

He slid his fingers out but continued stoking him, and a moment later he felt the unmistakable feeling of Crowley’s cock pressing against his entrance. He hadn’t heard him snap his clothes off, but he was past thinking about logistics. Crowley slid into him without too much trouble, helped along by a miracle, though Aziraphale couldn’t say which of them had done it. Aziraphale was now actively thrusting back against Crowley, whose fingers where now digging into the soft meat of his hips.

“Fuck, angel, you’re so tight and hot. I _love_ how thick your thighs and arse are, do you know that?”

_“Oh,_ yes, yes, yes.”

“You’re so soft. The perfect amount of padding for me to fuck you just the way you like.”

“Ah, Crowley, yes!”

“Do you like the way I feel inside you?”

“Yes, oh, you feel amazing my love.”

Crowley moaned at this, just as he always did when Aziraphale used that word while they were having sex. Crowley picked up speed, pounding into him at an almost brutal pace and making that coil in the bottom of Aziraphale’s stomach twist even tighter, ready to let loose at any moment. Crowley wrapped a hand around Aziraphale’s throat and pulled him up straight, his other hand going back to stoking his cock at the same fast pace as he was fucking him.

“Oh, oh Crowley, I’m so close.”

“That’ssss it,” he hissed into his ear. “Come for me angel. Let me make a mess of you.”

Aziraphale came with a shout, his whole body going tense as a bowstring. Crowley worked him through it, coming inside him only a moment later. Aziraphale slumped forward onto the counter, his breathing heavy and his head feeling foggy.

“That… that was…”

“Yeah,” Crowley mumbled against the skin of his neck. “It was.”

Aziraphale blinked his eyes open slowly. “I suppose I’ll have to go to the club with you now.”

Crowley leaned around him to look at the forgotten cake. “Well, I don’t know about that. Looks like you frosted it pretty well.”

“Oh, oh no!” Aziraphale cried, as he saw that he had come all over the white icing of the cake. “I’ve ruined it!”

“What? No.” Crowley reached around and ran his finger through the mixed mess, bringing it to his lips and slowly sucking it off. “Mmm. Tastes’ better than ever.”

Aziraphale flushed red and smiled. “You’re incorrigible.”

He winked. “Yep, but you wouldn’t want me any other way.”

He turned and sauntered out of the kitchen, already redressed and looking terribly pleased with himself. He heard him start singing the beginning lines to “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year” and laughed quietly to himself. Aziraphale shook his head fondly. No, no he wouldn’t.


End file.
